


Coming Home

by Maracuya



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 17:39:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5635867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maracuya/pseuds/Maracuya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the SanSan Holiday Exchange on LJ<br/>Prompt or summary:  I also love a good post QI Sandor/Sansa as Bran's Hand scenario. Fluff, smut and babies are always appreciated too. :)" => So I went for the daddy!Sandor thing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Littlefeather](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlefeather/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own anything, nor would I ever want to make any profit from this. All the credits go to Grrm.

 

Sansa had been in Winter Town all day. She had not wanted to part from Sandor and little Aryssa, but now, after the winter, she had to go and check on the people and to show herself. Rickon was doing his best to be a good Lord of Winterfell, but he was still a child, after all. He had little patience and was a wild boy (even more so because of his time on Skagos), and it fell to Sansa to fulfill the diplomatic and representative tasks.

 

Sansa had a hard time not to yawn. She and Sandor had been up all night, because Aryssa had been crying continuously. Around the hour of the wolf, they had given up and placed the baby into the waiting arms of the wetnurse; and even then, they had found no sleep and had been nervous. Aryssa was their first-born, and they still didn't know well how to behave and what to do around a baby. For Sansa, it was a bit easier, because she could refer to her childhood with little Bran and little Rickon – however, parenthood brought a completely different perspective.

 

In the courtyard, Sansa dismounted her gentle mare. After the birth, she had healed enough to be able to ride again. Elsa, Aryssa's wetnurse arrived from inside the castle.

“How's the little one?” Sansa asked.

The portly woman with her tawny-coloured mane smiled.

“Lord Sandor is taking care of her. I've never seen a man who has been so caring and so close with a little baby, if I may say so. I mean – which other man would swaddle his daughter personally?”

 

Sansa chuckled. Sandor's behaviour towards Aryssa oscillated between the fear to hurt her, because he was so coarse (which he never was when it counted) and enthusiastic, clinging love.

“ _Not so much different from the way he treats me, come to think of it,”_ Sansa thought. _“When it comes to love there is still so much he needs to catch up with.”_

As far as it concerned herself, Sansa would give him all the affection he could possibly crave.

 

Sansa walked on and made for their personal wing. When she opened the door to their bedroom, she smiled it the sight that presented itself: Sandor was lying in bed, sound asleep, and Aryssa was resting peacefully on his broad, muscled chest. And even while slumbering Sandor was cradling his daughter in a gentle way and had wrapped his open tunic around her.

“ _What a good father and husband Sandor is,”_ Sansa thought.

Then, she grinned.

“ _I'm only dreading the day when Aryssa picks up his first swear word.”_

 


End file.
